


The Dragon Prince

by lucifersfavoritechild



Series: The Prince and The Dragon [3]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Stephen Strange, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Baby Peter Parker, Dragon AU, Dragon Stephen Strange, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Tony Stark, at this point my dignity is just clinging to the fact that I haven't written tentacle porn ... yet, the day has come ... never thought I would type this tag ... but here you go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:01:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24067018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifersfavoritechild/pseuds/lucifersfavoritechild
Summary: After spending the past year falling in love with a dragon, Tony Stark is delighted to learn he's pregnant. Now he's determined to return to his father's kingdom to reclaim his and his son's birthright.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: The Prince and The Dragon [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617106
Comments: 75
Kudos: 527
Collections: IronStrange





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> never thought I'd come to this ... but here we are.

Tony smiled fondly at his mate, flying through the sky on grand scarlet wings, saltwater spraying through the air.

The Sunset Sea was as beautiful as Stephen claimed, the water so clear that it didn’t seem to reflect the golden sky at all. Colorful fish darted around a bustling reef that stretched back to the shore for miles on end. They were headed to the dropoff, where the coral ended and the water stretched down for miles instead of a hundred feet. Stephen said they were unlikely to encounter any beasts (he disliked the term _monster_ ), but they might see a shark or whale. 

_“Pods of dolphins swim where we’re going often,” Stephen said, almost as excited as Tony. “They’re extremely intelligent creatures, Tony, you’ll love it.”_

So far, they hadn’t seen any, but Tony enjoyed himself no less for it. It was Spring, but it was so much warmer than what he was used to that it felt like Summer. Pepper and Rhodey had joined him on their ship, a beauty of craftsmanship made from goldenheart wood with an elaborately carved dragon figurehead. There were no other ships in the water; other sailors feared the monster-infected water, but a dragon’s mate had little and less to fear.

Soon they had passed the reef. Pepper and Rhodey leaned over the side beside him, Stephen leisurely circling overhead. Tony’s companions were dressed in casual court clothes, but the prince would seem a foreigner to his own people in his gold-and-orange sandsilk gown and jewelry, not even bothering to wear shoes. 

Pepper frowned, looking at a shape moving in the water. “Is that a dolphin?”

“I think they usually travel in groups. It might be a whale. Or a shark!” Stephen had never eaten a shark before and was excited to try it. 

“It’s . . . getting big,” Rhodey said as the animal moved closer to the surface.

“It’s because of the water. It’s so clear that you can see further than normal, and things look small when they’re just far away.”

“That’s not helping.” And, well, the animal _did_ seem to be getting big . . .

The creature was black-and-grey, larger than anything had a right to be. When he looked at it, its shape didn’t take hold in his mind, ancient and terrifying and incomprehensible. 

Tony’s grip on the ship tightened. “Stephen!”

The Leviathan swam at a speed that should have been impossible, growing larger and larger—

“ _Stephen!_ ” Tony was rooted to the spot in terror, physically incapable of moving as the monster breached the surface—

Stephen dove into the water, faster than a hawk. He didn’t look like himself. When he moved, the sky itself seemed to bleed.

The claws of his legs embedded themselves in the fleshy body of the Leviathan, making it scream so loud that it echoed through water and air, sounding its pain to the world. Stephen pulled it up and out of the sea. It was so heavy that Tony didn’t think he should be able to hold it, but he did, screaming in sheer rage before biting its head, his huge black teeth tearing the flesh apart like paper. 

The Leviathan struggled, but it was out of its element, and the dragon’s armored body made it impossible for the beast’s teeth and poison to penetrate. Stephen bit huge chunks out of the monster’s head, dropping its flesh into the water, sending huge waves through the sea. 

As the monster died, Stephen started to fly back to land with it, dropping its body on the shore before returning to the ship, grabbing the figurehead with his claws and dragging it back to the beach they’d launched from. Once he was certain that Tony was safe and secure, he returned to the Leviathan’s body. He never ate anything though his teeth were never gone from it for long. Rather, he tore the body apart, raking the flesh with his claws and slamming it on the ground, and when there was little more than shredded grey meat, he stomped it, shaking the earth beneath him and breathing great plumes of fire to burn it.

When it was done, Stephen stood on the body, roaring his rage to the sky. 

* * *

Tony was lighting incense and candles in the cabin when Stephen arrived, cleaned by seawater but still smelling of blood and smoke. Immediately Tony put out the match he was holding, barely moving when Stephen darted forward, wrapping Tony in his arms and scenting his neck. 

Stephen breathed in the smell of him, boiling hot tears pricking his eye. "I was so scared for you."

Tony gently brushed his hair with one hand, placing a kiss on his neck. "I wasn't. I knew you would protect me."

"Always, my star." His arms were wrapped as tight as a python's grip around Tony, holding him close as he alternated between sniffing and kissing his mate's neck. Another moment and Stephen growls before effortlessly lifting Tony and tossing him onto the bed. He followed quickly, turning Tony onto his stomach, hands splayed on either side of his head, closing him in.

Stephen was more than half a foot taller than him, and his cock was large even for an Alpha. He was so careful the first time they had sex, and still Tony had been caught between fearing his mate would break him and wanting him to Now, he wasted no time being gentle, barely stopping to prepare Tony's hole before forcing his cock in, filling him completely. In only a few seconds, Tony was close to bursting. He welcomed it, acquiescing easily when Stephen pushed him face-down into a pillow. His thrusts were fast and hard, fueled by a desire to reassure himself that Tony was safe and happy and _here_. 

Tony took it all without hesitation, moaning desperately into the bed, sparks of pleasure erupting behind his eyelids every time Stephen hit that spot inside him. He could just barely make out one of Stephen's hands, the nails curled into dark claws and the pale skin striped with ruby scales. It took a moment to realize the words he starts to hear are coming from his own mouth. " _Please, please, please, harder, Stephen, oh, Stephen, love, mate, Alpha, yes, yes, my dragon, I want you, I want you to, harder, yes, like that, oh—_ "

He was rocking his hips in time with Stephen's movements, fucking back on his cock, and he keens when he comes the first time, dirtying his gown with his release as he pulsed around Stephen. 

The dragon didn't stop, his hands moving to wrap around Tony's wrists as he moved faster, growing frantic and desperate. Tony didn;t doubt that he'd have bruises the next day. He welcomed it, even as the feeling of Stephen working his abused hole made his oversensitive nerves scream. Stephen didn't speak, instead growling loud enough to be heard from outside as he tipped over the edge, filling Tony with his release at the same time as his mate came dry against the bed. 

Tony was completely wrung-out by the time Stephen half-collapsed on top of him, barely managing to keep from crushing the Omega. Tony's hand shot out, searching for a blanket and pulling it over both of them with some difficulty. He looked up at Stephen, yawning as he felt himself slip into consciousness. "Are you alright now?"

Stephen didn't answer, instead choosing to spatter soft kisses across Tony's neck and back and shoulders. Tony rolled his eyes and let sleep take him.

* * *

Two weeks later, Tony woke to Stephen sniffing his neck with one hand protectively covering his stomach.


	2. Dead Stone

The dragon came on the first day of summer.

It was the hottest day in a hundred years. Fires had broken out in the forests, burning away dozens of huts and acres of land. Later, red and gold ferns would grow in their place.

The dragon was a scarlet slash across the sky, ignoring the farms and quarries and mines and forests that were the usual targets of such creatures. Instead, it headed for the capitol, flying past the homes and marketplace as it approached the castle. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to go unbothered. That's what the deal was. 

_Is the prince dead?_ No one knew what the monster wanted with their omega prince, but it might feel that the deal was broken if Tony Stark was gone.

The dragon landed on the castle, claws gripping the stone towers as it roared, seeming more triumphant than angry. One of its wings stretched down to the courtyard, allowing something to walk down to the ground.

The few people still outside in the courtyard or looking out through a window stared in shock at the prince, dressed in red seasilk and gold, a circlet crowning him as he walked up to the first person he saw. "Go to the King and say that his son has returned to claim his birthright."

* * *

“I won’t allow it! A monster will not sit on my throne!”

Howard was shouting in the courtyard before his son, who was laying upright against the dragon’s great body. The rest of the castle’s inhabitants were hidden away inside, none of them close enough to hear what was happening. Tony gave no reaction to his father’s curses, but his mate growled. Stephen lifted his giant head and moved closer to Howard, making the King turn bone-white as he backed up.

“ _You will not call my child a monster, and you will be respectful toward my mate._ ” Despite the reputation that dragons had, Tony knew that Stephen did not get angry easily. But upsetting or insulting his mate was something that he would never stand for. 

Tony raised a hand and drew it down Stephen’s smooth red scales, calming him and whispering, “He is my father, and a King. It won’t do to kill him.”

Stephen didn’t stop moving until Howard was pressed up against a wall with nowhere to go. Then, the dragon snapped his jaws, giving the coward a fine view of his giant teeth and black mouth before pulling his head back, curling his long neck around Tony. The omega rewarded him with a brief kiss to his side before returning to the matter at hand.

“I can’t speak to you if you won’t be reasonable,” Tony said, just barely hiding his delight at having the upper hand against his father. “But we had a long trip and would like to rest now. I would have my old room prepared and a bath drawn. We can speak again at dinner.”

Howard stared at his son as though he were insane. Tony was sure his father wouldn’t even acknowledge his request or determination normally. Judging from the look on the King’s face, he probably would have liked to grab Tony and shake him for daring to embarrass and speak back to him in the middle of the courtyard, but he dared not take another step with Stephen curled protectively around him. 

Tony didn’t try to stop his smile.

* * *

Stephen peered out of the tall windows that looked out on the palace courtyard, snapping the curtains closed when someone saw him. He was a ball of energy, having not sat down since they were shown to Tony’s old apartments. He paced the length of the walls, sniffed at the hangings and tapestries, and stared at the poor serving betas who came en masse to prepare the previously vacant rooms. Tony watched his love in amusement, sunk into a milk bath as he nibbled at peach slices and pomegranate seeds.

“I don’t like this place,” Stephen muttered darkly once the servants had finally finished their work and flitted away under his intense gaze. “It smells like lies and dead stone.”

“It’s . . .” Tony started to defend his old home before allowing himself to trail off. It was true that Stephen seemed out of his element, clothed only in soft animal-skin pants, looking around as though the winding corridors outside and servants doors held unknown enemies for him to defend against. “You live in a mountain,” Tony pointed out weakly. 

Stephen scoffed. “Mountains are neither weak nor dead.”

“Are you implying that I’ve been sleeping in a living mountain for a year?” 

Stephen smiled before coming to balance himself precariously on the rim of the copper bath. “Perhaps.” He picked up some dried rose petals from a bowl, sprinkling them into the milk bath. “Either way, there are far too many people here.”

Tony shrugged, nonplussed by Stephen’s position on the tub. “I like people. Talking to them, talking _about_ them. And I have friends here. Pepper and Rhodey and Bruce . . .”

“Not your father.”

Tony sighed, rolling his neck. “This is not about him. This is about _our_ son.”

Stephen growled low, a sound Tony knew well enough to recognize it not as anger, but simply a sound he made while thinking or arguing with himself. “What makes you think he’ll want—” he gestured to the faded tapestries and cut stone walls and old oak doors as though they’d offended him personally, “ _this_.”

Tony sat up some so he could take Stephen’s hands in his, playing with his long, pale fingers. “If my father dies without an heir, there will be a civil war over the throne. Thousands will die or see their lives ruined so that some war-king can spend his days leeching the country of its food and money and Omegas before their descendants do the same.” One of his hands slipped past the still surface of the bath to his stomach. “But _our_ son could be different. The kind of King who cares about his people and _tries_ to make this shit world a bit better. A Dragon King who could rule for a thousand years, too strong for any to threaten, with all the wisdom of his father.”

Stephen smiled. “You or me?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Not answering the question.” He leaned forward, balanced on his feet as he pressed a soft kiss to his mate’s lips. “What makes you think it’s a son?”

Tony smiled softly, nudging Stephen’s nose with his own. “I dreamt it.”

Stephen’s eyes crinkled with delight, and he purred while pressing their foreheads together. “We should get ready soon. It’s nearly nightfall.” 

He started to stand up, but Tony stopped him, his hands drifting to the laces at the front of Stephen’s doeskin trousers. “We have _some_ time.”

* * *

King Howard Stark stared at Stephen, watching the dragon’s eyes dart around, casting suspicious eyes on the servants, the guests, the food in front of them. Not for the first time, Howard’s lip curled in distaste when he looked between his son in the beast. Tony at least was _dressed_ , although his black robes with their elaborate embroidery and heavy gold jewelry were better suited to an Omega princess in a fairytale than a quiet dinner. The monster, on the other hand, saw no point in wearing even a shirt or shoes, his only jewelry a claw on a leather string that hung around his neck.

Obadiah Stane, the King’s closest advisor who he’d invited to the dinner as an ally, noticed. He leaned forward with an overly friendly smile. “You know, if you need clothes—” 

“I don’t,” Stephen said sharply, looking at Obadiah as though imagining what his bloodied skull would look like as decor in whatever dank lair he lived in. 

Obie only faltered for a moment before sitting back, his hands held up in defeat. “Of course.” He sipped his wine, eyes slipping over to Tony. It was common knowledge that he’d hoped to take the Omega for himself when he came to age, and in fact he’d spoken to Howard about it only a day before the dragon had arrived with its demands. Immediately all plans had been abandoned, but it was clear that the Duke hadn’t forgotten what he’d once wanted, even if the endeavor was hopeless now. 

Stephen glared at the King when a huge dish of boar was served. “In the future, I will hunt and slaughter my own meat.” After a moment, he added, “And Tony’s.” 

Tony simply smiled at the Alpha before cutting a portion of the meat for each of them, waving away a server who tried to assist him. When he sat down again, Stephen pulled his chair closer so that they were almost sharing space. The two smiled at each other, sickeningly sweet. It was all Howard could do to keep from gagging at the sight of what his son had become. 

Stephen gorged himself on meat, occasionally stopping to pick at his vegetables or a bowl of berries. Even Tony, previously so prim, rarely bothered to use his utensils, preferring to pick his food up by hand and tear the meat with his teeth. He seemed a world apart, more lively and somehow _louder_ than the scared and tired Omega who’d left him. Howard found he didn’t like the change.

They hardly spoke throughout dinner. When dessert came, Stephen sat back in his chair with his legs pulled up on his seat, watching with quiet fascination as Tony ate fruit ices and honeyed peanuts.

Howard pointedly put his fork aside before clearing his throat. "You said you wanted to speak."

Tony gave him a look before he finished his small bowl of sugared-strawberries before primly wiping his mouth and speaking. "You know why we're here. I want a guarantee of my rights, and my son's rights."

Howard barked out a laugh. "What _rights?_ You are an _Omega_. I don't have to give you anything."

"You don't have to give it," Stephen said in a low tone. "I am perfectly capable of taking it from you."

Obadiah choked on his drink. It took him a moment to clear his throat and speak again. “And I suppose you think you’ll be this . . . _mutant’s_ regent?”

Tony quickly placed a hand on Stephen’s shoulder, preventing him from rising out of his chair and ripping Obadiah’s throat out. When the dragon had calmed, Tony cast the older man a hard look. He’d once considered Obadiah a dear friend and ally, but no matter how it turned out, he hadn’t forgotten how easily the adviser had turned on Tony when Stephen came to take him. “I see no reason I shouldn’t.”

Howard scoffed. “First of all, you know as well as I do that an Omega can’t be _regent_ , or King for that matter. It’s the law.”

Stephen arched a brow. “Dragons don’t answer to the laws of gods or men.”

“ _Humans_ do,” Howard countered. “And Tony Stark is still human, whether he likes it or not.”

Tony stared, meeting his father’s flint-eyes. “Stephen is an Alpha. He could do it.” Tony didn’t doubt that Stephen would allow him the power that he’d been denied since he was a child. He wasn’t even sure why he cared now. It wasn’t what he’d come for, but . . .

Howard and Obadiah shared a look before shifting. The King drank from his goblet before speaking. "About that . . ." He sighed, clearly not wanting to say what he was about to anymore than Tony and Stephen wanted to listen to him. "Tony, you must understand. Legally speaking, you and . . . _Stephen_ are not technically married. It’s more that you're his . . . hostage.”

Stephen stared at him for a long time, frighteningly still. Howard felt the back of his neck heat up as he fought the urge to beg forgiveness. When Stephen spoke again, his teeth were sharp and black. “A mate is not a hostage. Although that may be a new concept to you.”

Obadiah leaned forward with an arm stretched out in front of Howard, speaking quickly, "The point is that, even if we wanted to, making a b— _illegitimate_ child heir, people would never accept it."

"Then I'll kill them," Stephen snapped, eyes yellow and slitted.

Howard and Obadiah shut their mouths almost comically fast. Tony couldn't help his grin. "There's no need to go that far right off the bat. If it's a matter of so-called legitimacy, then I will _happily_ marry my mate before the entire court."

Howard sputtered, the wine making his reactions slow, his voice slurred. " _That_ . . . will not be possible."

"I see no reason it would not be." He had an urge to see how far he could push, a desire he'd thought he'd pushed down long ago. He stood up, silently urging Stephen to do the same. He did. "It's decided. We can discuss plans later, as I am tired now."

" _Anthony_ ," Howard said harshly, wondering how he'd lost control of the situation so quickly.

Tony merely looked at him for a moment before walking out with Stephen quick on his heels.


	3. La Volta

No one knew what to make of Tony Stark.

Before, he had simply been Howard Stark’s single surviving child, a regrettable fact when he presented as an Omega. Then he became a valuable bargaining chip, an enticing treat to be dangled in front of any family with an unmarried Alpha looking to advance their own position. Then he had been the unfortunate sacrifice they had to make for their own protection. It was sad, of course, but necessary, and it was barely a week later when everyone stopped feeling guilty. 

And now he’d returned, if he could be said to be the same person at all. Not everyone was sure. Prince Anthony Stark, Howard’s son, was small and seemed it, rarely allowed to speak to anyone outside of his inner circle, barely ever leaving the palace, dressed in pale, conservative robes and trousers. Tony Stark, the dragon’s mate, was lively and energetic, speaking often, loudly, and to anyone he pleased. He went everywhere, the gardens, forges, jewelers, ballrooms, kitchens, and temples whenever he wanted, always without an escort and often without his mate. The prince shimmered like no one else at court, clothed in rich Jewel tones, space-blue and blood-red and sun-gold and forest-green, his gowns and robes akin to those seen on mosaics and statues. The elaborately patterned and embroidered fabrics were light and airy, whirling up when he took off running down a hall or staircase or pathway, showing off his silk slippers or leather riding boots. The sheerness of some of his clothes, coupled with their revealing nature, was enough to make any nobleman blush. On the occasion he needed a cloak or cape, they were made of the finest furs. Jewels and polished metal shone around his neck, arms, wrists, fingers, ankles, head.

He almost didn't seem . . . _real._

The dragon — _Stephen_ — had the same unreal quality about him in a completely different way. On the occasion that he spoke, it was almost always to Tony, his dark glare and piercing eyes enough to silence anyone else who might have tried to engage him. He usually only wore a pair of plain brown animal-skin pants, not seeming to see the necessity of shoes or a shirt. He never transformed in front of others, but they knew he did, saw his shadow when he took off. Sometimes he came inside from a hunt with his mouth and chin covered in blood. If you got close enough, you could feel the heat radiating off of him, like a fire. Like a volcano ready to erupt. 

While Stephen didn't care either way, Tony reveled in the attention, energetically commanding the attention of courtiers and officials as he held court in his apartments. Settled in the antechambers with Rhodey and Pepper at his side and Stephen quietly curled around him, Tony shook hands and chatted amiably with the noblemen who passed in and out to see him for themselves. One hand resting unconsciously on his stomach, he spent the time between callers discussing wedding plans. 

"No, I don't _care_ ," Tony said shortly, petting Stephen's hair when his irritation started to rouse the dragon. "I have no interest in waiting. By year's end, I'll be on bed rest. In less than two months, I'll be showing. The longer I _wait_ the more people will question the legitimacy of my son _and_ my marriage."

Obadiah sighed, clearly frustrated that Tony wasn't simply giving in like he used to. "Well, if you want it done fast, we can just ask the Master of the Temple to perform the ceremony—"

"Tony is a prince carrying a King," Stephen said suddenly, his voice causing everyone to freeze in their place as they paid attention. "He should be married by the highest religious authority in the kingdom, _that_ is the Ancient One. If it's a matter of time, I'll bring her here myself."

Obadiah sputtered. He didn't know how to charm Stephen, or even how to _respond_ to him half the time, and it showed. 

Tony smiled. "Great! Now that we're all agreed, tell my father that I will write to Kamar-Taj _personally_ to invite the Ancient One. I want everything ready by the end of the month."

Obadiah glared at him sullenly before nodding. Realizing Tony wouldn't relent and he had no right to refuse the lawful prince, he reluctantly said, "Yes, your grace," before leaving in a huff.

Tony leaned back in his chair, smiling to himself. He’d never known what it was like to speak and have people listen. He found he liked it.

Stephen started to sit up, twisting around to face him. “I’m going hunting. Do you want me to bring you anything from home?” Stephen had taken to hunting more than usual in search of something to take him out of the suffocating castle, and recently he’d started to bring more back for the other inhabitants of the palace and the city outside. Now he left nearly every day for at least an hour.

Tony considered. “My lion-skin, if it won’t take you too long. Oh, and I wanted to show some of your star charts to Bruce.”

Stephen nodded and pulled him into a kiss, his thumb brushing the soft patch of skin under Tony’s ear. “I’ll be back soon.”

Tony waited until he was certain Stephen was gone to dismiss the others that still crowded around him. He walked further into his chambers until he was in his bedroom, opening a window and waiting. He smiled when he saw Stephen’s dark shadow pass over the city until he flew higher into the clouds.

* * *

Tony sat listening intently to Rhodey talk at length about his recent promotion in the military, the skirmishes at the southern border, and his own concern with Howard's power-grabs at Asgardian territory. 

"He has visions of himself as some great conqueror," Rhodey scoffed, drinking from his draft of beer. "All he does is make it harder for the rest of us to clean up his messes.

Tony nodded, quiet as he thought. It might be a good idea for him to begin establishing contacts with other kingdoms and counties if he were serious about having power of his own. He didn’t know how he would maintain it when he returned to the mountain, and there was always the problem of Howard finding out, but it was worth thinking about. Pepper was a diplomat, she knew of such things. 

He started to respond to Rhodey when he caught sight of Stephen. They’d come to dinner in the great hall together, but had been separated after eating as Tony got caught up in people and conversations that Stephen had no interest in. Now the dragon was standing against a wall in a forgotten corner of the room, disinterestedly watching the people around him. Golden light from fireplaces and braziers danced across the Alpha’s sharp-cut cheekbones, and Tony felt a sudden, heady desire for him, spurred on by the heat of the fire and the feeling he got from the food and the laughter of people around them.

Quickly bidding goodbye to Rhodey, Tony rose, twisting around the throngs of people. He only stopped a moment to speak to the musicians who before he’d only spared a passing glance to. “Play a Volta.”

Realizing who was speaking to them, they quickly moved to obey, and the music started low as Tony crossed the rest of the distance towards his mate. Tony, flushed and smiling, took his hands. “Dance with me?”

Stephen blinked, looking around the room at the people who were trying not to be caught staring at them. “Are you certain?” He sounded unsure, completely contrary to how Tony had always known him. “I . . . I haven’t danced in a very long time.” There were the beginnings of a blush in his pale cheeks, the barest hint of a red so similar to his scarlet scales.

Tony grinned. “You fly, but you don’t dance.”

Stephen frowned, crossing his arms. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“Trust me, better men than you have tried. Myself, for starters.”

Unwillingly, a smile pulled at Stephen’s mouth as he allowed his mate to pull him into the center of the room. Everyone turned to stare at them unabashedly as the music quieted, then rose again, low and sultry, hinting at something more to come. They stood across from each other, looking like a painting as the light reflected off of Tony’s bright gold jewelry and Stephen’s ocean-eyes. 

Stephen, vaguely recognizing the music, bowed low. Tony curtsied in return. Moving closer, Tony walked around the Alpha in a circle, whirling around in place to face him, the golden foil of his dress shimmering. His blue-green eyes glinting, Stephen held out a hand, wrapping Tony into his arms when he took it. Tony, staring into his eyes, kissed his hand before pulling away, whirling around the dragon until Stephen grabbed him, his hands an iron grip on Tony’s waist. Tony shuddered, leaning close and cupping Stephen’s face in his hands. 

They moved as one, Tony leading him over the floor until Stephen grabbed him, lifting him in his arms with strong hands on the delicate Omega’s thighs. Tony wrapped his legs around Stephen’s waist, balancing himself on the dragon’s shoulders. Tony and Stephen stared at each other as though they were the only people in the universe. The great hall, the people, the castle, all of it fades away until it was only them, alone in the world. Tony felt as though Stephen’s fire were inside him, lighting him up and making tears gather in his eyes at the intensity of it.

Tony’s fingers ran through Stephen’s soft hair, whispering in his ear. “My bedroom. Now.”


	4. Shiny Things and Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for violent trauma to a character's hand and eye

“Can I see that?”

Lady Katherine of the Iron Shields stopped short, the back of her neck heating up when she heard the dragon’s voice. She turned to look at him, feeling quite small when the tall, pale monster set his eyes upon her. “Pardon, sir?”

Stephen stepped closer, eyeing the necklace she wore, an elaborate collar of pearls and rubies set in white gold. “Your necklace.”

Confused, she started to shake her head. “I don’t . . .”

“Let me see it.” His voice was low and toneless, leaving no room for disagreement.

Not knowing what else to do, she stepped closer, the hairs on her arms standing up as soon as she did. The dragon curled a finger around her necklace, holding it up for his inspection. “This is very beautiful,” he said, a faint glimmer in his eyes.

“Thank you—”

Stephen suddenly tore the necklace from her throat, carrying it in his hand before walking away without another word.

* * *

“Tony, you have to tell him to stop!”

Tony looked up from the worktable where he was showing Bruce Banner a design he was working on for a new coat of armor. He stood up, looking at his friend. “What’s happening, Pep?”

“It’s _Stephen!_ ” She plopped down into the pile of pillows and blankets that Tony had centered around a low table piled with fruits and cakes. “He’s been stealing from people — jewelry, weapons, gold forks!”

“Forks?”

“I think there were also some spoons.”

Tony sighed. “Pepper, I know that dragons have something of a reputation for their hoards, but Stephen is not a petty thief—”

At that moment, the door opened. Stephen came in, carrying a gold platter with a string of black pearls on it. “Hello, Dearest,” he said, casually leaning over to kiss Tony’s cheek.

Tony studiously ignored Pepper and Bruce’s looks, watching as Stephen pulled an oak chest out from under the bed and unceremoniously dropped his loot inside. “Steph?”

“Yes?”

“Where did you get that?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I waited for them to finish their fruit before I took the plate.”

Tony stared at him. “That’s . . . that’s great, dear.” He shot his friends a look, then kept doing so for the next ten seconds when they didn’t leave immediately. He waited until the door had shut behind them before asking Stephen, “Can I take a look at that?”

Stephen, not seeming to find any of this strange, simply pushed the chest over so that Tony could peer into it easily. And he did, taking note of the jewelry, pocket watches, silverware, small musical instruments, loose jewels and coins, decorations, and one gilt clock. No, two clocks.

 _For fuck’s sake . . ._ Tony sat back on his heels with a sigh. “Stephen, you have to know this isn’t okay.”

Stephen frowned, tucking his legs underneath him. “What?”

“You can’t just _steal from people._ ”

“Obviously I can, I just did.”

Tony stared at him, stunned to realize that his mate was, in fact, completely serious. “Stephen, didn’t anyone ever tell you that stealing was bad.”

Stephen scoffed, as though _Tony_ were the one missing the obvious. “Of course not. I’m a dragon.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just _take whatever you want_ —”

“That’s exactly what it means.” Stephen shrugged, not seeming particularly concerned in the slightest. “If I can take it from them, and they can’t take it back, how is it not then mine?”

“. . . _No_ — _”_

“Well, why not?” By that point, Stephen had picked up a sapphire-studded silver goblet and was tossing it around in his hands, watching with open fascination as light bounced off of the shining metal and polished gems. “They can just get more. _Perhaps_ it would be wrong if I took something from someone who otherwise had nothing, but why should it matter when things are so easily replaceable by these people? They’ll always have more.”

Tony sighed and counted to five internally before trying again. “While I don’t necessarily _disagree_ , I might remind you that these people are going to be our son’s subjects, his courtiers and advisers and councilors—”

“Dull.”

“—and it might be in everyone’s best interests if we at least _try_ to keep things friendly. _And_ , need I remind you that everyone is already anxious around us? Blatantly stealing from them is not the way to fix that.”

“I don’t care what they think of me. I have you. That is more than enough.”

Tony smiled at the unexpected compliment, leaning forward to cup his face and kiss him softly. Then he stared into Stephen’s eyes and said, “You did not disrail this conversation.”

Stephen shifted awkwardly in place. “Wasn’t trying to.”

“Of course not. Now, promise that you aren’t going to take anything else.”

Stephen muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Fine!”

“Thank you. Now, go return the stuff you took.”

“You _go too far_ —”

* * *

“Sir,” a willowy servant said, leaning close so that Tony could hear his quiet voice. “Lord Stane is at the door. He wishes to speak to you privately.”

Tony considered it before sighing and putting his book to the side. “Of course he does.” He didn’t particularly _want_ to speak to Obadiah, but he wasn’t doing anything else at the moment, and Stephen was out on a hunt, so he didn’t have the dragon’s prickly nature as an excuse. “Very well. Let him in and give us a few minutes.” He pulled a fur robe over himself to make sure he was covered in spite of the almost-sheer red gown he was wearing and stood at a table as he waited for Stane to come in.

When the door opened, he made himself smile. “Obie. What can I do for you?”

Obadiah smiled his charming, empty smile and stepped inside, the tall doors shutting behind him. “Just wanted to come and check on you, my boy.” He walked closer until he was standing across the table from Tony, leaning on his hands. “I’ve hardly seen you since you came back. That dragon guards you like a hound with a bone it likes.”

Tony chuckled, but he was surprised to realize he felt the smallest bit guilty. Obadiah had made a mistake, but he’d been a family friend since long before Tony was born, and there were times when he’d felt that Obie cared more for him than his own father. He could spare some time for him.

“Well, things have been crazy.”

Obadiah laughed. “I’ll say.” He looked Tony over, lingering over his stomach in a way that made the Omega vaguely uncomfortable. “You’re not showing yet.”

Tony glanced down at his stomach, pulling his robes closer to his body. “Not yet.” It had not yet been so long that he should expect it, but he was beginning to be self-conscious of it.

Obie looked like he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself. Tony had only a moment to be grateful for it before Obadiah spoke. “It’s a shame that dragon of yours is always around. Impossible to get any time alone.”

Tony felt his neck prickle, heating up. “I prefer to have him around. Makes me feel safe.”

Obie raised a brow, smiling knowledgeably. “Do you need him to make you safe?”

Tony shifted uncomfortably, grabbing a book from the pile on top of the table at random and opening it to give himself something to do. “What do you want, Obie?”

He froze when Obadiah suddenly grabbed his wrist, holding him in place. “You know, before the dragon first came, I asked Howard if I could claim you myself.”

Skin crawling, Tony considered calling for a guard before remembering that he’d dismissed them because they made him feel crowded and he didn’t think anyone dumb enough to touch a dragon’s mate, _and in hindsight that was a very bad idea._

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the dagger Rhodey had given him long ago, left out in plain view on his worktable from when the knight had polished it earlier while ranting about Tony not keeping proper care of his things. Now, Tony spun away and out of Obadiah’s grip, the whirling of his gowns and robe providing a cover as he slipped the weapon into his hand. He backed up until he was standing with his back to the fireplace, burning in spite of the light outside as winter was beginning to set in and the chill had Tony shivering. Now, he held the dagger behind his back and allowed the blade to slide into the fire, heating it up. He cleared his throat. “You should leave now.”

Obadiah chuckled, and his smile didn’t seem so charming anymore. “Wouldn’t it be something if we had . . . maybe, ballistae on the castles? City walls? Thinks he’s so invincible, but it would be easy.”

Tony grit his teeth, pulling his hand back slightly when the flames touched him. “ _Go,_ Lord Stane. I won’t ask again.”

Obadiah smirked. “Good.” He walked around the table, close enough to press Tony’s back against the stones that lined the fireplace and drawing a hand down his cheek. “You’re an Omega. It’s always been your fate to shut up and bend over for someone stronger than you—”

Tony suddenly swung his hand out, his inexpert hand somehow finding its mark. The glowing blade sliced into Stane’s eye, sending blood down his cheek as Obadiah stumbled backwards, covered his face and screaming in pain. “ _YOU_ —” He screeched, pulling his hands away as though to survey the damage. Tony saw the melted remains of his eyes smeared across his face and palm. “ _YOU— FUCKING OMEGA WHORE!_ ”

Tony stared at him a moment, feeling oddly cold, before he calmly set the dagger down and went to chase down a page who’d spoken to him earlier. When he found one, he said, “My father will receive myself and Lord Stane now.”

* * *

By the time Stephen stalked into the great hall, it was clear that _someone_ had told him what happened, or he’d heard it whispered amongst the servants. His face was twisted in rage, his eyes an angry storm until he forced himself to calm some when he saw Tony sitting between Rhodey and his father. His strong, gentle hand curled along Tony’s face. “My love, are you hurt?”

“No,” Tony said quietly, smiling when Stephen leaned down to kiss his forehead and pull his white fur cloak closer around Tony’s shoulders.

Stephen’s hand gently pet Tony’s hair before he turned and saw at Obadiah for the first time, his face becoming hard and cold as he looked upon the bandage over his eye and the angry red cut mark that snaked out from it to just before his ear.

“Now, Stephen,” Howard said, leaning forward in his throne, “I understand what you’re feeling—”

“Which hand?” Stephen’s eyes had turned gold with onyx slits down the center. When he spoke, you could see that his teeth were sharp and serrated, his tongue black. Even Tony thought he looked like a snake surveying its prey and trying to decide on the most painful way to kill it.

Obadiah stared at him before taking a single, small step back. “What?”

“Which _hand_ did you lay upon my mate?” Stephen demanded, walking up to Obadiah until they were close, much too close for the petty lord’s comfort.

Obadiah straightened his back, trying to appear larger and braver than he was. “I don’t—”

“ _Which. Hand?_ ” Everyone seemed frozen, not daring to move or breathe as blood-red scales arose along Stephen’s spine and arms, framing his face and eyes.

When Obadiah finally spoke, it was stumbling, not quite looking up as he raised his right hand. “I—”

Stephen grabbed hold of his wrist, claws digging into the clammy flesh. He inspected the offending appendage carefully before his entire body transformed into a smaller version of his dragon form. His growled and his jaws snapped, closing his mouth and teeth around Obadiah’s hand before severing it at the root as the man screamed.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stephen said eat the rich ... literally


	5. Star-Wed

Tony peered his head out from behind a tree more than four times his size at the chest, standing on a branch thick enough that he did not fear falling, although he was high enough that such a fall would certainly mean death. Dark green leaves hung over the forest like a canopy, disguising his presence at the same time as it kept Stephen from his view as he searched for any sign of the scarlet dragon.

He looked down when the leaves started to move faster than the wind warranted, eyes widening when he saw the creature walking on the forest floor. It was similar to a deer, but more than three times the height of a man, with dark, shaggy fur, and large, elegantly winding horns. Pale cream dots speckled the creatures back like small coins of sunlight.

Tony’s hands trailed along the tree trunk as he watched, waiting. It did not take long. A streak of red moved across his vision, striking faster than a snake to clamp its huge jaws onto the deer’s jugular. Claws dug into the animal’s throat and snout and face as it bellowed in pain. Tony turned away, shutting his eyes.

When he opened them again, the dragon had twisted its body around the tree he stood on, scarlet scales against black bark, its huge head only a few inches from Tony’s own, eyes staring into him. Then: “Are you hungry?”

They sat next to a waterfall to eat, the sounds of crystal blue water crashing down around them low and soothing. Stephen roasted his kill with plumes of red-and-gold fire as Tony picked red berries that looked like they were probably safe. He sat and ate with his legs crossed under him, pulling his comparatively tiny portion of meat apart with his hands as Stephen tore huge chunks off of the carcass with his teeth and jaws. Soon, Tony’s mouth and chin were a mess of grease and red juice, and when Stephen transformed back, he licked it away as Tony laughed.

“Why do you always eat in your dragon form?” Tony asked later, when they were curled up beside the pool of water. He could see deep into it, see the silver fish and dark stones and glowing blue plants and algae. He wanted suddenly to sink to the bottom in Stephen’s arms and stay there forever, unbothered by the world around and above them.

“Tastes different,” Stephen explained, nuzzling Tony’s neck. “Richer.”

Tony hmmed contentedly, cuddling closer. “I like it this way. Just us, alone, where nothing can touch us.”

“I wouldn’t let them hurt you. Never again.”

Tony knew Stephen blamed himself for Obadiah getting as far as he did, even now as the man had been exiled from court, likely attempting to eke out a poor existence for himself on the edges of the kingdom by now. “I know. Of course I know. But I’ll be happy when we’re alone again, in our little kingdom of ourselves.”

“We won’t be completely alone,” Stephen reminded him, his hand sliding down to Tony’s stomach and resting there. A small bump had appeared at last, hardly noticeable most of the time, but obvious when he wore one of his tighter gowns, though for the most part he’d given them up in favor of his robes.

“It’ll still be just us, in a way. Just a slightly bigger us.”

Stephen maid a contemplative noise, one hand slowly petting Tony’s dark, soft hair. “I’d like that.”

* * *

The copper tub shimmered in the afternoon light, the huge windows opened to allow golden rays of sun inside. Tony sunk lower into the rose-scented sweet water, sighing when a maid came over and poured soap into his hair, washing it until he was as as fluffy as a fluffy cat. He waited until she’d finished washing the soap out to sink down even lower, enough that the water gently kissed his lips. Around the room, people were speaking, some of them to each other, some of them to him, but he ignored it all, occasionally moving just enough to grab a sweet from a stool next to the bathtub and pop it into his mouth. Flower petals, rose and jasmine and lotus, floated on top of the water, sliding over his huddled knees and arms and chest.

He might have passed the rest of the day like that, floating silently in a sea of his own dreams, if Rhodey hadn’t come over and gently shook his shoulder. “Tones? You have to get ready.”

Tony sighed, throwing his head back and looking up at his old friend. “Must I?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Pepper said from across the room, quickly flitting over with a thin, cream-colored cotton robe in her hands.

Tony pouted before finally giving in, unfurling his legs and standing up, allowing a servant to cover him with the robe as he looked out of a window to the trees there, blooming with small pink and gold flowers. He was pliant as people pulled him around the room, drying his hair and body with towels, applying masks and clays and oils to his face and skin, perfuming him until he smelled sweeter than sugar.

He finally snapped out of it when the sun had started to set, the light quickly becoming dark, almost purplish. Without waiting for a servant, he moved suddenly, going around and lighting candles and sconces until the room was practically glowing.

 _Much better_ , Tony thought absently before returning to the task at hand. He ignored the attempts to dress him in favor of doing so himself, finding the soft, pale white dress with its beautiful, elaborate floral red embroidery laid out on his bed. He pulled it on, skirts whirling around his ankles, long sleeves flowing over his arms. A choker made of rows of large red rubies fit over his neck, quickly followed by white metal cuffs on his wrists and a ruby belt at his waist. An array of rings, some dominated by large red stones, others elaborately shaped and carved metal, followed. He finished with a fairly simple chain over the crown of his head, a single ruby hanging above and between his eyes.

When he was done, he paused to look at himself in a mirror. Only a little over a year ago, he would not have recognized himself. Now it seemed, if not quite natural, then right.

He knelt down so a group of Omega maids could put a veil over him, reaching past his feet and trailing behind him. He must have seemed like some unnatural spirit, like a wisp of smoke waiting to rise into the sky.

He took a few minutes to practice walking in the dramatic getup before he nodded. “Alright,” he said, gesturing for the doors to be opened. “I’m ready.”

* * *

The sky was as dark as ink when he went outside, dusted with tiny silver stars that watched them from above. Tony was certain suddenly that they were aware of what they saw, and approved. The others would laugh if he said such a thing, but he knew Stephen would agree.

Flower petals in shades of white and red led the way outside, never allowing his bare feet to touch the ground. The others had gone ahead of him. He walked outside alone, uninterrupted in the halls of the palace. It was only when he breathed fresh air and felt the evening dew on his feet that he saw people again, all of them dressed in black and lined up on either side of him, heads bowed in respect.

But it was only when he stood in the center of the gardens, dark trees twisting around and above them, jewel-like flowers offering their sweet scent to the air, did he see Stephen.

The dragon was, for once, wearing clothes, the dark blue robes and leather belts and wrappings that Tony had only seen him in once before. A cloak of pure white fur hung from his shoulders, long enough to dangle around his boot-covered feet. Blue-green eyes — ocean eyes, gem eyes, _star eyes_ — seemed to glow when he looked at him.

Tony could not help the smile that overtook him when they stood together. “Hello,” he whispered.

Stephen smiled back, ignoring custom to lean forward and press his forehead against Tony’s, ignoring the veil between them. “ _Hello._ ”

It was then that the priestess, the Ancient One in her black-and-white robes, began to speak, talking in a cool, even tone about rites and tradition and bonds and love, and honestly, Tony didn’t hear a word of it. He didn’t care to. The only thing that mattered was Stephen, so close he could feel the dragon’s warmth seeping into him. He shivered.

It was only when they were close to the part where he actually had to do something that he again became aware of the words spoken. “. . . by the skies above and the earth below, by the water of the oceans and rivers and the fire of the hearth, and by the stars above us, I declare you bound forever and always.”

Stephen’s hands, calloused and gentle, moved, reaching down slightly to lift Tony’s veil, pulling it up and over him until he could drop it on the ground. Without looking away from Tony, he removed his cloak, pulling it from his own shoulders and over Tony’s in one fluid motion. Tony instinctively moved closer to him, tilting his head ever so slightly up. Their lips met, and it was like coming home. They kissed, and it was absolution. 


	6. Palms

“You’re doing quite well so far, my prince,” the woman said quietly, seeming very aware of the blue-green eyes staring at her.

Tony let himself fall lower into his bed, giving Stephen a _told-you-so_ look. “See? I’m fine?”

“You were tired earlier,” Stephen pointed out from his perch on a windowsill. “You said you were tired.”

“It’s normal to be tired when you look like someone strapped a ball to your stomach,” Tony muttered petulantly, shifting in discomfort.

The doctor looked up at him. “You’re a perfectly healthy size and weight for this far along, your grace.” She was a short, slight Beta woman, with brown hair and dark eyes, dressed in simple pale blue doctor robes. “Can I see your stomach?”

“No,” Tony said snappishly, tired of being poked and prodded.

“Tony,” Stephen said quietly.

Tony scowled, staring at him for a while before he sighed in defeat. “Fine.” It was annoying to adjust his robes on his own so that his stomach was bare while he was otherwise covered, but he wanted to avoid other people touching him if he could.

He lay silent while the doctor examined him, her hands refreshingly warm and soft compared to the cold, clammy ones of the last doctor who examined him. He and Stephen took turns answering her questions. “When did you last eat? What do you normally eat in a day? How much water, how much meat?” “How much do you walk? Where? When?” “When did you know you were with child?” “How many hours do you sleep?”

“You said you were planning to live in a . . . cave?” The doctor asked quietly, seeming nervous to anger Stephen, but not enough to stop her.

Tony bristled. “It’s a dragon baby. I’m married to a dragon. I don’t see how any of this is surprising.”

“It’s not,” the Doctor rushed to say, her nerves showing on her face. “It’s just I’ve never seen anything like that before, and—”

“He’s tired,” Stephen said quietly. “And irritable. Just keep working.”

The woman ducked her head, muttering an, “Of course, sir.” Tony huffed.

“You’re certain it’s a boy?” she asked when she found her voice again?

Tony nodded. “Yes.” He could tell where this was going. A boy was _always_ predicted for royals because the court’s seers and astronomers knew better than to say otherwise. Yes, a girl was supposedly _fine_ , but a boy was wanted. So that’s what they said. But Tony didn’t need anyone’s false promises. He _knew_.

“How can you be certain?” She asked, sounding genuinely curious rather than rude or insulting.

“I dreamed of it,” he finally admitted, watching her carefully.

“Do you do that often? Have prophetic dreams?”

Before Tony could answer, Stephen spoke. “It’s a part of being a dragon’s mate. I’ve often had dreams that helped determine my path.” He smiled softly at his husband. “I dreamt of Tony before I ever saw him.”

“How does that work?” the doctor asked, looking at Stephen and leaning forward with open curiosity on her face. “I mean, I’ve heard of dragons having certain powers, but so little is known about you scientifically.”

Stephen tilted his head as he looked at the woman, considering. “What’s your name?”

“Christine, sir. Christine Palmer.”

* * *

“. . . and I was writing to the Asgardian prince about it, because they have a huge library dedicated to astronomy and astrophysics, and their court scientists believe they have evidence of a Starway Bridge, but they call it the _Bifrost_ — Tony?”

Tony was staring at the book on his desk without reading, not even looking up until Bruce snapped his fingers an inch from his eyes. Tony started slightly, turning to face him. “Hm?”

“Tony?” Bruce sat down next to him. “What’s going on in your head?”

Tony tapped a quill on the table, getting red ink over a stack of papers. “What do you know about Doctor Palmer?”

“What?”

“The doctor who’s been treating me, what do you know about her?”

Bruce frowned, thinking. “She’s new. She trained at the temple of Kamar-Taj, so she knows some simple healing magic, which is why Stephen asked for her.”

Tony stilled, hand frozen in mid-air with ink dripping down his finger. “Did he?”

“You didn’t know?” Bruce asked, fussing with his hands awkwardly.

Tony’d known he’d asked for a new doctor after the first three proved irritating and, in the dragon’s words, ‘worthless, sniveling worms’. But he didn’t know he’d asked for Christine specifically.

“Of course I did,” Tony scoffed, smiling for his friend. “Just . . . thinking, is all.” He turned to a new page in his book, _Treatise of the Stars and Planets_. “Did you read about Rosenburg’s new theory on how planets are formed?”

Bruce, mercifully, allowed him to change the subject.

* * *

Tony was sitting on a pile of pillows next to the fireplace, talking to Pepper and Rhodey, when Stephen came back . . . with her.

Christine, as she always did, curtsied upon entering. “My prince. Lady Potts, Ser Rhodes.” She was polite. Unfailingly polite, and kind to Tony, kind and gentle and soft and pretty. He was quite certain he hated her.

Stephen walked through the room, stepping over and on top of furniture rather than go around it, until he came to Tony, plopping down onto the pillows and kissing his mate on the cheek. “Dearest,” he murmured, nuzzling Tony’s neck and pulling him into his lap. Tony’s eyes darkened. He didn’t respond.

Christine stood awkwardly next to the plush couch where Pepper was seated. Pepper, perhaps sensing the other woman’s nerves, smiled kindly. “You seem well today, Doctor Palmer.”

Christine seemed startled to be spoken to at all, and she ducked her head when she responded. “Thank you, Lady Potts. Although, I came to see how our prince was faring, not myself.”

And humble. So humble. Always thinking of others. Lovely.

“I’m fine,” Tony said in a clipped Tony, pushing Stephen away when he tried to touch his hair.

Stephen moved back slightly, frowning. “Tony?” he whispered.

“It’s nothing,” Tony muttered back.

Everyone sat in awkward silence for a moment before Pepper spoke again. “Tony said that you’re working on a book about dragons, Christine.”

‘Said’ was a bit of a mislead. He’d ranted. For about an hour.

“Oh,” the doctor said, a slight blush rising in her cheeks as Pepper made room for her to sit. “Well, I was just talking to Stephen about it, because most of what people know about dragons is just myth and speculation or outright lies, so I thought it would be interesting to do a proper scientific study. And he graciously agreed to help me.”

“Not gracious,” Stephen said. “I felt like it.”

Tony had the strangest urge to bite his husband. Not in a sexy way.

“We should get to bed now,” Tony said suddenly, standing up and pushing Stephen’s hand away when it trailed after him. His hand rested on his stomach. “I’m tired.”

That was enough to make everyone clear out, Pepper offering to escort Christine back to her quarters. When they left, Rhodey cast a concerned look over his shoulder. Tony turned away.

When they were gone, Tony started to pull his silver-and-blue robes off, turned away from his mate as he reached for his nightgown. “I know how it’s done,” Tony said roughly, ignoring the prickle of tears in his eyes. “I know how these things are. I _know_. But I refuse to sit here while you _flaunt_ her around as though I am nothing.”

He felt a hand on his elbow, but refused to move when Stephen tried to turn him around. “My love, I don’t know what you mean.”

Tony wrenched himself forward, leaning a hand on the wall as Stephen forced himself into his view. He closed his eyes so his emotions didn’t show in them. “I’m not _stupid_. I know what Alphas do when their precious little Omegas are no longer able to pleasure them. I _know_.” Everyone knew, even if no one talked about it. And Tony was far enough into his pregnancy that Stephen would not even think to touch him that way — it was considered dangerous for the baby — so he knew. But he hadn’t thought . . .

He felt it when Stephen stopped moving, felt the Alpha’s eyes on his face. “You accuse me of something that is contrary to my very nature, my star.”

Tony scoffed, brushing a tear away. “Of course. Forget I mentioned it.” He started to turn to go to bed, no longer wanting to even speak to him, but Stephen stopped him with a gentle hand on Tony’s wrist.

“I speak only the truth to you,” Stephen whispered. “I am yours, and you mine. I want for no other.” Tony finally looked up at him. Stephen’s blue-green eyes were honest, and he looked at his little mate with something like sadness. He took Tony’s hand, laying it over his own so they were palm-to-palm, fingers interlaced. “That might be what you expected before, but I would not treat you that way.”

Tony felt his cheeks heat up. He looked at the floor. “Christine is very pretty. And smart.”

“Very smart,” Stephen agreed. “That’s why I wanted to work with her. No other reason.”

Tony peeked up at him. “None.”

Stephen shook his head.

Tony shifted awkwardly on his feet. “I think I might be a bit hormonal.”

Stephen smiled, wrapping his arms around his mate. “I know. I love you anyway.”


	7. The Birth Of A Star

In the weeks leading up to the prince’s birth, rumors circulated the court. That the child would be born deformed, a monstrous half-lizard, half-human creature, dead before it drew its first breath. Or that there would be an egg. Somehow.

Tony was glad to know that such rumors were unfounded.

* * *

Of course, it still wasn’t pleasant. It was a known fact that Omega men had difficult labor, worse than their female counterparts. The only way to safely remove the child without killing Tony in the process was to cut his stomach open and remove it. Which meant he had to be drugged into oblivion to keep from feeling anything, which meant he would be unconscious, which meant Stephen was probably going to be a terror to the poor surgeons and healing sorcerers who would be tending to him—

When Tony came to the next morning, the curtains were pulled over the windows, blocking out the early light. His eyes were tired and bleary, not opening beyond a sliver. Trying to move, just to roll over and see more of the room, was enough to make him wince and shout out suddenly in pain, nearly tearing open the freshly healed scar in his stomach. Then he was asleep again, and the world was all darkness.

* * *

The next time was easier. Someone, Stephen probably, had opened the windows, allowing pink-gold light to pour in and feel the rooms. There was still a pain in his stomach, and an ache in his body. But he could sit up, could look around and see what had happened.

There were guards and maids stationed at every door, and Christine asleep on a couch, somehow lying both beside and on top of Pepper. When he looked closer, he could tell that Rhodey was one of the knights standing guard, eyes stonily trained ahead, body tensed for any sign of movement. Tony’s heart warmed at the sight of him.

Stephen was curled around him like ivy tightening its grip on a tower. It was only a moment after Tony moved that he awoke, star-eyes snapping open. He shot up in the bed, his face only a breath away from Tony’s.

Tony smiled at him. “Hello, you.”

Stephen smiled as though seeing the sun after a year of storms. He laid back on the bed, looking up at him. “Hello.” His hand found Tony’s, traced the lines of palm. “You were asleep for a long time. Scared me.”

Tony can’t help his crooked smile at the thought of _him_ scaring a dragon over something so silly. “Well, it was a long day.” A thought prickled at his mind, and he looked around the bedroom, finding the cradle positioned nearby. _Empty._ Tony’s heart almost stopped. “Where’s—”

“He’s with a nursemaid,” Rhodey said quickly, speaking for the first time after letting them have their moment. “Do you want me to get them?”

“No, I want to wait a few days — _yes_ , please bring me my child.” He was surprised by the snappishness in his own voice, but there was something whirring in his blood, a sense of _wrongness_ that he instinctively knew came from being separated from his newborn for so long.

The feeling was washed away when the door opened and a woman came in with a small bundle of white cloth against her chest, gently rocking the baby as she flitted across the room, carefully passing him over to Tony. He held the infant in his arms, more fragile than porcelain, and held him close.

He had big eyes. As large as Stephen made Tony’s out to be. The same dark brown as his own. And curls, so many soft curls. Pink, round cheeks. Ha made a soft sound when Tony held him. That was what had woken him he realized, remembering the sharp, pitiful sound he’d heard before waking up. The crying. Probably just hungry, but he wished he’d been there for him properly.

Tony couldn’t help his smile. “Hello, baby Peter. Been waiting on you.”

* * *

  
  


A Series Of Snippets

“Peter—”

“No!”

“You have to.”

“No I don’t!”

Tony sighed in frustration, sitting back on his knees and putting the bowl down. “Stephen! Help me!”

“I’m against this and you know it.”

The toddler smiled smugly at his father, who glared back at him. “You’re not that cute, you know.”

Peter pouted a Tony turned around to face his husband. “Why won’t you help me make our son eat his vegetables?”

“He doesn’t need to,” Stephen insisted, crossing his arms — a gesture Peter immediately copied. “He’s a dragon. He doesn’t need vegetables.”

“I’m a predator!” Peter roared at Tony, a few tiny sparks coming out. Tony was unimpressed.

“You’re my husband. You should back me up.”

Tony stared at his husband. Stephen stared back.

The dragon broke first. “Peter, if you eat your beans, I’ll take you flying before bed.”

“Don’t _reward_ his bad behavior, Stephen!”

* * *

“Breathe in deeply, and as you breathe out, clear your mind until you are no longer noticing of the separation between your body and the air around you—”

“How’s that going to help me grow wings?”

Stephen opened one eye, peering at the ten-year-old boy in front of him. Peter was already gangly and had always had bright eyes, but they seemed even more excited than normal at the thought of his first transformation.

“It’s not just _growing wings_ , Peter. It’s about a transformation that simultaneously is completely different from anything you’ve ever known before, and essential to your being. A change of body and mind, but not soul.”

“. . . I _do_ get wings though, right?”

Stephen sighed. “Yes, wings will be involved.”

* * *

“Okay, be safe, and don’t go to high, and stay over the meadows, not the mountain, and watch out for birds—”

“ _Dad_ ,” Peter groaned, sighing as Tony fussed over him. “I’m fine.”

Tony looked over to his husband, who nodded with the utmost seriousness. “I’ll be there with him, Tony.”

“Thank you,” Tony said as Peter muttered to himself. It was a sunny, clear day, with no clouds; exactly what Tony had been dreading.

Peter was practically jumping up and down, stretching and rolling his shoulders the way he did when he was anxious to transform. Stephen was standing calmly under the soft leaves of a weeping willow, his feet being washed over by the cool water of a lake.

Tony looked up at Stephen pleadingly. “Are you _sure_ his wings are ready?”

Peter sighed, turning and walking around as his parents spoke. “He’s going to be fine, Tony,” Stephen said, pulling one of Tony’s hands to him so he could draw patterns on his palm with his finger. Tony snatched his hand back, petulant. Stephen sighed. “He’s so anxious constantly being in the caves. He wants to fly and see the world from above, as the stars do.”

“And he can’t just live with it like the rest of us?”

But there was no putting it off any longer. Stephen tried to bring Tony around for another minute before giving up and leaving him there. Tony watched them for a moment before he turned and started looking for a foothold near the tree, quickly climbing into one of the stronger branches, hidden by the emerald-green leaves. Nearby, Peter tipped his head back, eyes closed as sunlight fell over him. His face twisted in pain and discomfort as he skin squeezed and moved around him, turning to leather and scales in shining shades of red and blue. His bones seem to break themselves and reform, until he fell forward on his hands, claws erupting from his fingers. He could not help the roar that erupted from his mouth when wings grew from his forelegs, erupting up and out.

Peter was, in comparison to the ancient dragons that Tony was used to, an almost adorably small dragon, perhaps a foot longer from snout to tail than he tall in his human form. Stephen, by contrast, was large enough that the only building Tony had ever known to hold him in this form was the mountain they lived in. 

Stephen stretched his wings for a moment before leaping into the air, the strength of his powerful wings generating a wind of their own. Peter hesitated only a moment before following, beating his own wings strong enough to pull his body up. Stephen swept downward, golden eyes carefully watching his son as he rose higher, flying amongst the sky for the first time.

Slowly gaining confidence, Peter kept going, reaching up until he was close enough to his father that a single misstep from Stephen would have knocked him out of the sky.

They only went a short distance before Stephen turned, tail snapping out like a whip. Peter, panting small puffs of smoke, quickly followed. He was sinking, moving lower as his untested wings grew tired. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhausted, and when he opened them again, he was falling, head-down as was thrashed in the air, unable to regain control of his spent bones and leather wings.

Tony, who only a moment before had been sitting quietly in the tree and watching them, stood up suddenly, jumping down from branch to branch until he was on the ground, running towards them. Peter was twisting around, unable to straighten himself enough to glide down as Tony cried out—

Stephen swept downwards, wings tucked into his body as flew, sharply rising again at the last moment to catch Peter on his back. His wings beat gently as Peter gratefully lay down, and they glided the rest of the way.

Tony ran forward as they landed and changed back, immediately grabbing Peter and pulling him in for a hug once he was close enough. “Dear stars— fucking _hells,_ Peter, you could have _died!_ You could have fallen and hurt yourself, you— you—”

“Dad . . .” Peter groaned, looking around for Stephen’s support. Stephen just smiled and shrugged at him before leaning his forehead against the back of Tony’s neck, letting out a silent breath of relief.

* * *

Tony lay on the cool grass, looking up at the stars as they winked down at him. Stephen was beside him, curled into his side and drawing a hand through Tony’s soft, dark hair. Tony shut his eyes, rolling over so Stephen’s arm was wrapped around him. He pressed a kiss to Stephen’s collarbone before speaking. “You think he’ll be alright at the palace?”

“I think I’ll kill your father if he isn’t.”

Tony chuckled before nuzzling his neck, the cool air contrasting the warmth of Stephen’s arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Stephen looked down at him, star eyes sparkling. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
